


it’s alright, it’s okay (i’m lonely, lost, in pain)

by pastelwolfie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Cannon Divergence, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Sad, i was running off boba tea when i wrote this, ik i’m evil don’t expect comfort, prepare for depression kids, this is so fucking angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwolfie/pseuds/pastelwolfie
Summary: it’s alrightit’s okayyou’ve made a few mistakes—🥂—lmao what if punz was like, 2 minutes late?angsty ay of the final disc showdown, where tommy watches as tubbo is murdered and he has an identity crisisbecause who is he without tubbo?
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Kudos: 59





	it’s alright, it’s okay (i’m lonely, lost, in pain)

**Author's Note:**

> hehe  
> another angsty songfic  
> chapter 2 of time is coming dw i’m working on it  
> title from mother mother’s ‘it’s alright’ highly recommend listening to it whilst reading i wrote it to that song

“it’s over. it was fun, y’know, all good things must come to an end eventually.”

the air was heavy, damp with unshed tears. his voice seemed unfamiliar, broken and desperate.

“tubbo, tubbo no! what am i without you?”

he was lost. he’d been exiled, used, crushed, but nothing compared to how hollow he felt in this moment. 

“yourself.”

who was he without tubbo, though? what was ‘yourself?’

“are you accepting this?”

an almost silent whisper, tears falling freely. despite the softness behind the other’s words, he couldn’t smile back at the warmth in the acceptance.  
he couldn’t.  
they didn’t accept defeat, they never-

“it’s alright. it’s alright. we’ve said our goodbyes, it’s okay.”

there. he heard the fear, hidden by a sheen of acceptance and tiredness. this couldn’t be the end of the line, surely?

“no- tubbo,”

no. no, no, no, no, no-  
this wasn’t real. it was a dream. a cruel, wicked, twisted dream.

“he described me as a pawn? this is checkmate. i suggest you surrender.”

desperation. tubbo was going to forfeit his life to the tyrant. the tyrant they’d spent ages fighting with, wining against, falling under.  
they’d never actually lost.  
sure, it may have felt like it, but they’d never lost. lost eachother.  
sure, they’d been apart, had their spats, but they’d always be there in the end.

“please- please don’t go-“

was this the end? help- help was coming, help was- help would be there, it-

“it’s alright. it’s okay- it’s time.”

the world stilled.

“you heard him. it’s time.”

click.

a storm of noise, footsteps, sobbing, screaming, tears cascading down pale faces, sick grin hidden behind sickening smile, begging- pleading, crying.

“no- please, don’t- tubbo, tubbo- tubbo!”

his cries stopped, the only noise being the dull thud of a boy who’d been through hell and back, falling to his knees before a tyrant.

“i’m sorry, dream-“

tubbo, tubbo, tubbo, tubbo, tubbo-

“you should have pa- dream?”

when did he get on his knees, since when was he cradling his best friend, arrow dug into his chest, bleeding freely?  
‘help...’  
his voice didn’t work, the only noise capable of leaving his body being violent sobs that shook his body and tubbo’s.  
“we had a good run...”

quiet, small, frail, drifting-

“stay with me, tubs, it’s alright- you’ll be okay- it’s okay, you’re fine- you’re fine-“

his head fell back, eyes closed. the smallest breath escaped his lips, not a single one more entering them. 

there were nosies, loud- shouting, laughter, screams-  
none of it was tubbo. he was quiet. silent.  
gone.

things quietened down but he couldn’t tell, the screaming in his mind drowning rational thought and begging for someone, anyone- anything to prove him wrong.  
tubbo. his tubbo, ‘your tubbo’ tubbo was dead, dying, gone. silent.   
then someone was by his side, a hand on his shoulder, tight but not enough to hurt him. casting his eyes to the side, a familiar face rendered in his mind, before his eyes turned back to his friend.  
he’d wake up, surely. he had to.  
“i’m sorry, tommy...” punz was apologising?  
punz was here, he came he-  
he was meant to be help. he- he was here, why- why was tubbo dead, how had he lost, what had - what?

then he was gone, other people rushing to take his place. crying, loud, noise.  
none of it was tubbo though, he was silent.

he hadn’t remembered screaming, but apparently he did as sam and niki were holding him back, moving him away from tubbo, not tubbo- not- tubbo’s body, his body, he was dead. dead? dream said he could bring them back, bring wilbur back, his brother, his best friend-

what did he have left?  
a body. tubbo’s body. silence. sickening silence that muted the outside world, maki him imperious to the attempts to console him.

what was he without tubbo?  
himself?

who was he- without wilbur, without l’manberg, with tubbo- chaos? was it even worth it for the disks?   
never.   
they weren’t more than l’manburg, or wilbur and definitely not tubbo.  
they were the cause.  
no,  
no no no  
he was.  
it was all his fault.

“it’s not alright. it’ll never be okay.”  
he felt the words on his tongue, the only thing he could hear over his swimming thoughts.

because really, who was he?


End file.
